This is a story in three parts, all of which are in this post. It starts rather slowly as it follows Donna Reynolds and her decision to be implanted so that she can be successful in the world. It is rather mild sexually, but somewhat upsetting in theme as it sets forth a fictional future world that may be less improbable than some would think. In fact, we may already be living in that world.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.
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Donna Reynold’s nineteenth birthday had just passed. I-Day was less than a month away. She was rapidly approaching the most important day of her life. I-Day was exactly one year from the date of her graduation. She had to make her decision by then. I-Day was the deadline for her to decide whether or not she would be implanted.
It was quite an accomplishment for Donna when she graduated from her Third Level schooling. Only one third of the students made it that far. She remembered the culling when she finished First Level. At the end of First Level, the lowest one third of the students were seIected as Drudges. Her parents had used the culling as a threat to make her study when she would rather be playing outside. “You have to study,” they would say, “or you will end up a Drudge.”
The Drudges did the lowest jobs in the city. Their government ID cards and video records said DRUDGE in the classification spot, but you didn’t need to look at their ID to know they were a Drudge. Drudges always had a stupid grin on their faces. They seemed happy. And Donna knew they got married because there would be official notices in the news feeds. But there were never any kids in school from Drudge families so maybe they couldn’t have kids. They lived in the big government housing project on the edge of town and came into their jobs every morning or every night in special underground busses to do cleaning and other jobs no one else would want. You normally didn’t see them very often, but sometimes you would see them working in one of the big holes that are dug occasionally to work on pipes or whatever deep below the streets or cleaning up some mess on the street that couldn’t wait to be cleaned up that night.
One day, when Donna’s dad was particularly upset with her, he yelled, “Do you want them to fry your brain so you wander around like a slobbering idiot for the rest of your life?”
She didn’t know if they actually fried the kid’s brains who were culled out to be Drudges, but she did once run into a boy on the street whom she had known before he was culled. He didn’t remember her, and he was... different. He was smiling, but Donna couldn’t tell if he was really happy because it was that strange, stupid grin that all Drudges have. He was cleaning up dirt from the sidewalk from an emergency repair of some sort in the street. After she spoke to him, he said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, if I have offended you in any way, but I have to make this sidewalk clean.” Then he beamed at her and said, “I’m the best sidewalk sweeper in my workgroup.”
Donna just said, “OK,” and walked on.
After the first culling, her parents changed their threats. They no longer threatened her with becoming a Drudge. Instead they threatened her with becoming a Worker. They would say, “Do you want to be a Worker struggling to eke out a living for the rest of your life?”
Workers did the low-level jobs in the city like bus drivers, waitresses, short-order cooks, sales girls in the stores and things like that. They stopped school after Second Level, or more accurately, they were culled and not allowed to continue to Third Level. There was no frying of brains or anything like that. And there were kids in school from worker families. Those culled to be Workers were just removed from school. Their government IDs were simply changed from STUDENT to WORKER and the culling was complete.
Without a Third Level education, the best a Worker could get were the lower level jobs. Some were happy with their lives. Others were not. One half of the students finishing Second Level were culled as Workers. That left one-third of the original class going on into Third Level.
There were no more cullings after that, but there was the seIection and then the big decision. Would you become a Skilled Worker, or would you be implanted?
About half of the class had no real choice. They were destined to become Skilled Workers. But the other half of the class– the true amount varied from year to year– about half of the class was invited to become implanted.
For the chosen ones, after graduation was a one-year period of self-examination. The government granted each seIected student a generous allowance so they could travel and see the world, or perhaps just go up into the mountains, or whatever. The idea was that they would see and experience life. It was a time to examine the world and oneself. Then at the end of that year the decision would be made. Would they become a Skilled Worker or would they accept the invitation and be Implanted.
Skilled Workers were just that. Their IDs said SKILLED. They made good money. They lived fairly well in the suburbs. They supervised assembly lines or built houses or even big buildings or perhaps they managed offices or were assistants to the bosses. Donna’s parents were Skilled Workers.
The bosses, the owners, and all upper level management, however were implanted. In order to really get ahead in the world you had to be one of the Elites– the official term for the implanted ones. There were some who said that, even at this point, the government encouraged certain people to become Skilled Workers and others to become Elites, but if they did Donna was unaware of it. She did notice that she did seem to receive an awful lot of brochures explaining the benefits of being implanted. Of course, the brochures also explained what would happen if you didn’t get implanted, but that was a much shorter section.
If you decided to become a Skilled Worker, government counselors would assist you in finding the proper training and job experience. If you chose to be implanted, the implant itself would “find your perfect position in Elite society.” At least, that is what the section in the brochure about the implant promised. The back of the brochures also showed an image of a government ID with SKILLED in the classification blank and another image of an ID with no classification at all on it. Only the Elites had IDs with no classification. There wasn’t even a space for classification on an Elite’s ID.
Becoming implanted had many great advantages. There were actually two implants done several days apart. The first implant changed your body so that you aged very slowly and were immune from almost all diseases. The second locked you into your perfect career.
Being implanted guaranteed wealth and success. That was primarily because you became a part of the Elite Network. All of the implants were interconnected. Any one individual person was not truly aware of the giant network of brains, but it was there. The first implant connected you to the Elite Network, and that Network could sense your true skills and ambitions. From the information gathered by the first implant, the second implant was created specifically for you.
Once you received the second implant, your brain was modified by the Elite Network to optimize you for what you were born to be. Information that once was learned in Fourth Level schooling was simply downloaded into your brain. Changes in your personality and ways of thinking that once required years of experience were made automatically by the implant. In just a few hours, what had once taken decades to acquire was accomplished and in place. By the time you left the implant machine for the second time, you were ready to begin your long life as an Elite.
All of the great leaders of business and the military were implanted. Politicians were also implanted, but there was less control over a politician’s brain and very few became truly great leaders.
Not normally spoken about were those people whose skill and purpose were primarily to support others. The wives of powerful men and the husbands of powerful women were also Elites. But the interconnected Elite Network had determined that their skills and desires were best suited for the role of supporting spouse– whether that be a same-gender spouse or a mixed-gender spouse– and that is what they became. Some were also seIected to be high level personal secretaries or administrative assistants.
Also not spoken about or mentioned in the brochures was the risk you took when being implanted. All the graduates knew about it, but no one talked about it. The risk– the big risk in being implanted– was that what you would become was not known to you until after the second implant was in place. And then it was too late. That risk was why the government– actually the hidden Elite Network which ran the governments of the world– allowed the seIected young graduates from Level Three one year to decide whether they wanted to become a Skilled Worker or become an implanted Elite and risk having to fit into the Elite Network wherever it thought was best.
Donna had used her year to travel the world. Maybe she should have spent less time on the beaches and in the clubs, but she still experienced many various businesses and observed the governments of many nations. After eleven months and fourteen days, she returned home, apparently ready to make her decision.
Finally on I-Day, Donna nervously approached the door to the local Office of Implant Supervision. Everyone in her class had already made their decisions. She and her best friend were going to come down together, but her friend’s parents made her report the day before, so Donna was all alone.
She stood in front of the door for several minutes trying to make her final decision. Did she go in here or walk the short distance down the hallway to the Office of Skilled Worker Supervision? Her conscious mind was still switching back and forth between yes and no when her knuckles rapped sharply on the door. Her decision had been made.
Three months later:
Donna parked her shiny new company vehicle in the parking deck and rode the elevator up to the second from the top floor. She confidently strode into the spacious office and walked swiftly up to the administrative assistant– an Elite– who guarded the door of the Senior Manager of Apex Industries. Donna stood there in her tailored blue suitcoat with a slightly frilled, pale tangerine blouse and a pencil skirt that color-coordinated with both the blouse and the coat. It was obviously a very expensive outfit, but she could afford it.
“My name is Donna Reynolds” she said crisply once the assistant looked up at her, “I have an appointment with Mister Martin.”
The woman made a big show of running her finger down the front of her display screen as she looked at an electronic calendar program of some sort. “Ah, yes,” she replied dryly, “he has blocked out an hour for your meeting.” She then looked back up at Donna and said, “Make your presentation brief. Remember, he does have other meetings today.”
“I will remember that,” Donna said as she side-stepped around the desk and walked toward the highly-polished oaken door. The door opened just as she reached for the handle.
“Donna!” a cheerful voice called out, “I remember you from Third Level. You were in sub-level Nine when I was in sub-level Twelve.”
“I’m glad you remember, Mister Martin,” she replied, “or should I call you Bill?”
“I think it should remain, Mister Martin,” he answered, “just to help us both remember that this is a business meeting.”
“As you wish, Mister Martin,” she said as she walked over to the small couch and set down her coat. She then turned and said, “Where shall we begin?”
“I think you should finish what you started,” he replied.
“As you wish, Mister Martin,” she answered, unbuttoning her blouse and setting it on top of her coat. Her pert breasts, kept firm by the programming in the implant, needed no bra for support.
She stepped out of her heels and then opened the long zipper on the side of the pencil skirt, allowing it to slide unimpeded to the floor where it formed a small circle around her feet. Clients usually liked that effect, and Bill Martin was no different. She was naked beneath her clothes.
“Now, where shall we begin?.. ... Mister Martin,” she repeated smiling at Bill and looking directly into his eyes.
“You were the best cocksucker in town when you were in school,” he said. “Let’s see if you have improved on perfection. And then I want to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless from behind.”
“The customer is always right,” she said sweetly as she stepped out of her shoes, padded naked across the deep carpet, and knelt between Bill Martin’s legs. As promised, the implant had found the perfect position for Donna Reynolds.
Ten Years Later:
The party had been going on for hours. It had begun at seven with a social hour followed by an elaborate meal served in courses. Actually, it had truly begun in the morning with a picnic for all local employees. There were games and prizes for the children and free beer for the Workers. A noon meal was provided and following the meal, Molly Fairchild, the recently-promoted Assistant Senior Supervising Manager of Apex Industries had presented various achievement certificates and rewards to Workers for attendance or productivity or having been with Apex for ten, twenty, or thirty years.
The picnic broke up around four and then the Elite upper-level managers from around the world, who had been present and mingling with the Workers as part of the festivities of the day, were transported by limousines to Molly’s palatial home for drinks, conversation, a meal together, and... entertainment.
Since the evening was to be much less casual than the picnic had been, time was set aside for everyone to clean up and properly dress for the formal dinner. The seven to eight-thirty social hour allowed time for some of the Elite managers to rest for a short while, or more likely, use their portable devices to catch up on any urgent matters at their plants or offices.
Dinner began precisely at eight forty-five and took precisely ninety minutes for all courses. Afterwards, when everyone was sitting around the table sipping after-dinner liqueurs, Reginald Luxly, CEO of Apex Industries addressed the gathering. He, too, spoke of meeting goals and productivity and even longevity with Apex, but no certificates or cash envelopes were handed out. The rewards for the Elites would be in the form of stock bonuses or company-provided trips to exotic destinations, but who received what was never openly discussed. In a less-than-unexpected surprise, he did hint broadly that when he retired next year, Senior Supervising Manager William Martin would be stepping into his position.
Not openly discussed was the true nature of the entertainment which would become available at exactly eleven pm when the band began playing and the party moved to the large tent erected in the spacious backyard of the Fairchild mansion. A few of the Elites slipped away early while people were still standing around talking after dinner. Various excuses were given, but the true reason was that they– or their spouse– wasn’t comfortable with the entertainment provided. One of the realities of the Elite Network was that just because something wasn’t spoken of openly, that didn’t mean that everyone didn’t already know. Not staying for the entertainment wasn’t held against the Elites who left early... as long as they kept silent and spoke to no one– especially the press– about the true nature of Apex’s yearly “World Conference, Dinner Party, and Dance.”
The entertainment arrived precisely at ten fifty-five in three long black limousines and a luxury SUV. The limos had been rented for the evening, but the SUV was the personal vehicle of Miss Donna Reynolds. Like the vehicles of many high-ranking Elites, it was discreetly armored and the driver and front seat passenger were both armed bodyguards. There were no large, obvious signs on the vehicle, but if you looked closely at the front doors, next to the recessed handles was a small, black, rectangular plaque. It was the logo of the manufacturer before the car was specially modified. Now it held a small golden heart with the letters, “RPA” elaborately intertwined within it. Alongside the heart it proclaimed quietly in small gold letters, “Reynolds Pleasure Associates.” In even smaller letters beneath that it said, “A Division of Apex Industries.”
Donna had made the suggestion seven years ago to William Martin at one of their weekly “meetings,” that she could manage an escort service much better than her current boss. She also suggested that it could be one of the many diverse companies which composed Apex Industries. He backed her partly because he thought it was a good idea... and partly because she promised that he would always be a complimentary account with no charge for personal services. The success of Reynolds Pleasure Associates made Donna rich beyond even her dreams, and helped make Bill Martin Senior Supervising Manager.
The arrival of the entertainers nearly doubled the size of the party. There were a few among the guests who would entertain each other, but most would avail themselves of the entertainment as they slipped away into one of the many private tents located further back in the more dim areas of the back yard. Donna Reynolds and William Martin, however, believed in leading by example. After the bevy of entertainers had mingled with the crowd and were getting acquainted by dancing with or talking with the high level Elites, she walked onto the stage next to the band and stood facing the wall of the tent.
She was wearing a black, spangled dress that molded to her body like a second skin. The sequins and small diamonds sewn throughout the dress flashed like small suns as she undulated with the beat of the music. William stepped up on stage behind her and stroked her shoulders for a moment before slowly pulling down the zipper which went all the way down to below the round of her ass.
After the dress gaped open revealing her perfect body, he gripped the top of the dress on both shoulders and pulled upward slightly. There was a series of soft pops as the snaps which held the shoulders together released. William held the two pieces of fabric in his hand for a moment, enjoying the sight of her body writhing within the partially-open black cocoon. Then he opened his hands and quickly moved his arms outward with his fingers held up and separated. There was a hushed gasp from the crowd as the dress immediately dropped to the floor and puddled at her feet. Her dropping dress trick still worked its magic.
Donna stepped out of her stiletto heels– and the dress– and turned to kneel naked in front of William. He was still facing away from the crowd, but there was no doubt what she was doing. It was now her turn to slowly lower a zipper.
Normally, his manhood would spring out through the zipper, but his tightly-tailored formal wear had his partially erect prick trapped. Donna murmured, “He’s being a bad boy today, isn’t he,” as she carefully reached through the zipper and pulled his rapidly engorging prick clear.
She began by flicking her tongue against the tip of his glans. That had been her starting technique with William for ten years now, and it always had the desired effect. He was immediately stiff enough to push through an iron wall. Satisfied with the effect, Donna pulled his prick into her mouth. She knew exactly how long William would last and what would drive him over the edge, but today was about more than sex. It was a performance. It was a demonstration of power. She had to change her style just slightly so that William would last longer than usual. The exact length longer was a carefully-calculated amount. Mister William Martin had to show that he had stamina and duration, but it couldn’t go on so long that it appeared that he couldn’t get the job done. This wasn’t having sex, this was demonstrating power– both for William and for Donna.
At just the right point in time, he spurted into her mouth. There was a smattering of applause from people standing near the back of the tent, but most of the high-level managers just nodded their approval. One leaned in and said sarcastically to his wife, “That’s the way it is supposed to be done.” She replied, “I know. You never last that long.”
Donna swallowed several times to make sure that her tongue was clear– it wouldn’t do to drip anything on his black pants– and then she again flicked William’s glans several times. That, and a little assist from William’s implant, had him rock hard once again. She stood up and then turned and lay over a conveniently-placed speaker. Her glistening cunt was visible to everyone in the room for just an instant before he rammed himself into her.
William didn’t like what he called “soft sex.” He once told her that he approached love-making the way he approached business, “all in fast and hard.” The beat of the music was vibrating her upper body which William was pressing more firmly onto the speaker. Her lower body was responding to a different rhythm as he pounded her mercilessly.
She had learned to suppress her passions for the pleasure of her clients, but she had also learned to release them at the appropriate time. Her well-trained cunt could feel the twitchings which marked the beginning of his orgasm. It was time to release her own pent-up fury so that they would climax together.
They did. His was marked with a short grunt. Her orgasm was marked with a long, low, loud wail that was met with almost thunderous applause. She had been a little noisier than normal to add to the impression that he had driven her wild.
William turned his head and smiled at the crowd... or was it a smirk, with him it was always hard to tell. He moved Donna around the speaker so that she was now facing forward, but was still more or less bent over the speaker. Then he said loudly, “There is still one more stop on our around the world tour.”
Donna always resisted when someone requested anal sex. She was, of course, always willing to accommodate the desires of the client, but at the same time, she made it clear that she was doing it only because they insisted. Actually, Donna loved anal sex, but giving the client the sense that they were forcing something increased the client’s pleasure. It also normally increased Donna’s fees. In William’s case, her promise of him being a life-time comp client still held. The thought of forcing Donna to do something she really didn’t want to do, however, was all that was needed to bring William back to ready.
The one accommodation William made when it came to anal sex was that he started slowly rather than ramming himself home and pumping wildly. He pressed his prick against Donna’s rosebud and waited for it to open and accept him. Donna had tremendous control over her body and could relax her anal sphincter almost immediately, but that would make it too easy. William had to conquer her. He had to force her body into submission, which is what he felt he was doing as he pressed solidly against her asshole. After a few moments, things relaxed and he forced himself in.
Donna made sure to make the appropriate faces indicating that she was in pain... even though she wasn’t... and that she didn’t like what William was doing... even though she was already having to suppress an orgasm that was starting to grow from deep within her. She even faked a look of intense relief when he finally finished and spurted deep within her bowls. As she did so, she looked out at the women in the crowd and thought, “I wonder how many of you have ever had to fake NOT having an orgasm.”
After William finished, he waited until he had fully deflated before pulling out. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped himself off before tucking himself back into his pants. He then dropped the handkerchief onto the stage floor and walked out into the crowd, leaving Donna Reynolds lying naked over the speaker.
She stayed in place slowly looking out at the gathered Elites. She remained motionless for many minutes because she knew what the gathered Elites were thinking as they watched her. They were looking at her and then at the RPA entertainer dancing with them and saying to themselves, “If that’s what the boss is willing to do, what will this one do for me?”
The answer was, of course, “Almost anything.” All of Donna’s employees were Elites that had been seIected by The Network for this role in Elite society. Their chips protected them from disease and if the client wanted something rough, even the most extreme welts and bruises healed in just a few hours.
After a few minutes, Toby walked up on stage with a damp towel. Toby was one of Donna’s more sought after dates. His own self-descriqtion was, “I flame so hard you could light a candle off my ass,” but he was basically straight. It gave female clients a great deal of pleasure to think that they were so attractive that even a gay man couldn’t resist them. Some of Donna’s truly gay escorts could also fill that role, but no one flamed quite as brightly as Toby or was able to put so much enthusiasm into pleasing a woman as he did.
He cleaned her up and helped her slide back into her dress. He held her shoulders for just a little too long after pressing the snaps back in place. “Toby,” she said firmly, “you know that I am way out of your league. And you have clients to satisfy.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied in a soft groan as he walked away. He was the only employee that she allowed to call her Mistress. All other employees addressed her by her first name. But Toby was special. He was in great demand and his rates were more than double any other escort. And as Donna already knew very well, you can get away with a great deal when you are the best.
After Toby sulked his way back into the crowd, Donna stepped down from the stage and began to mingle. The Senior Supervising Manager was the only one who would get to use her tonight. That wasn’t because she thought she was too good for the others. She was available to them... if they were willing to pay the price... on other evenings. But tonight was about power and prestige and she was reserved for the top dog.
After making a thorough tour through the crowd, she stood at the back of the tent watching her employees and carefully noting comments– good or bad– that would have to be made at the next employee meeting. As she was finally relaxing and sipping a drink, Molly Fairchild stood alongside her and said softly, “Welcome, old friend. It’s been a long time since Sub-level One of First Level Schooling.”
Donna turned to her without a smile. Her face was emotionless. “I am here tonight,” she said flatly, “because you employed my services.” She waited until Molly’s face went blank with shock before smiling and saying, “But I will stay overnight with you because you have always been my closest friend.”
One of the more pleasant memories of Donna’s year of travel was the six weeks that she and Molly had traveled together. They had become intimate in the first few days and shared the pleasure of each other’s bodies many times. Twice they had even surprised some random male by proposing a threesome. Once, just to see what would happen, they suggested a threesome to a very rich, older woman. Lucinda– the rich woman’s name– introduced them to the joys of strap-ons, both for giving and receiving. And they rewarded her with her first experience with double tonguing. For that, Molly took the front while Donna took the back. Lucinda, meanwhile, just stood between then moaning and shaking until she collapsed.
A little after one am, Donna began rounding up her “horde of whores.” They didn’t like that term, but it was what they were and occasionally Donna needed to remind them of that. By two, everyone was accounted for and in their limos for their rides home. Donna told her security detail that they could take the night off, but they replied– in unison– “We’re paid to protect you twenty-four hours a day, ma’am. We’ll sleep in the car... or wherever... and be here for you in the morning.”
Molly laughed and said, “They can stay in the room above the garage,” and called over one of her servants to show them where to go.
Donna looked around at the many people cleaning up. “Don’t worry about any of that,” Molly said. “I have executive assistants who have executive assistants. They will take care of everything.” She ran a hand down Donna’s arm and said, “Let’s go upstairs and take care of each other.”
The bed had already been turned down when they got upstairs. Molly pointed at doors on opposite walls and said, “The architect who designed the house envisioned his and hers bathrooms to avoid a lot of marital strife. They are identical and there is no his, so we can both clean up before we... retire for the evening.”
Donna smiled. Ten years of professional experience kept her from laughing as Molly turned a bright shade of pink. In grade school they had called her “Spot Light” because of the way she blushed so deeply. The implant should have corrected that... unless Molly had unconsciously wanted Donna to see her blush.
“I’ll take a quick shower and join you in bed,” Donna said with a smile. She really wanted to wash all traces of William Martin from her body before embracing Molly. William was business. Molly would be pleasure.
Molly was already in bed when Donna came out of the bathroom. There was a scent of lilacs in the air and Molly’s already very white skin seemed to be even more subdued. She had obviously used a scented body powder of some sort. From the very natural smell that did not assail the nostrils, it was probably expensive. Donna herself rarely used perfumes. Despite what the ad agencies for the perfume companies tell you, most men prefer a natural smell. And the smells that many men like are actually female pheremones that only men can perceive.
Donna hurried across the mattress and wrapped her arms around Molly. The kiss was long, deep, and mutual. After they finally broke the kiss, Molly said breathily, “It’s been a long time since I-Day.”
“And an even longer time since that hotel in Fiji,” Donna replied. That was the last time that they had made love.
“Let me take you high,” Molly said, starting to run her hands down Donna’s body. “Just kiss me while I...” Donna cut her off by again clamping her mouth over Molly’s.
Neither woman knew what the record was for a kiss like that, but they kept their lips pressed together for three orgasms... two for Molly and one for Donna. After her second orgasm, Molly broke the kiss and flung her arms around Donna pulling her in tight. “Hold me,” she said. “Just hold me.”
Donna wrapped her arms around Molly and pulled her even more tightly against herself. They fell asleep side by side, facing each other, tightly wound in each other’s arms.
Sometime in the night their grips relaxed. They awoke, still side by side, still with each other’s arms around them, but they were no longer pulled so desperately together.
Someone was knocking on the bedroom door. “Yes, Marie,” Molly called out, “I am awake. I will be downstairs shortly.”
She turned to Molly and said, “I have time for a quick breakfast. Will you stay?”
A much heavier knock and a gruff voice saying, “We are running late, Miss Reynolds. They will be waiting for us.” provided the answer to that question.
“I have to leave,” Donna said softly as she gave Molly one last kiss.
Molly looked longingly into Donna’s eyes and asked, “Are you happy?”
“Every day is a joy,” Donna replied flatly. “Don’t you remember? The second implant prepares you for your perfect position in Elite society. Isn’t that what the brochures promised all those years ago?”
“But why did it choose this life for me and a life in the pleasure industry for you?” Molly replied. “You were so very good with numbers, And you had a way of convincing people to do things for you. I was sure the Network would choose you for a management position like mine or even greater.”
Donna suddenly became very serious. She leaned in and kissed Molly lightly on the lips and asked in a voice just above a whisper, “But are you happy?”
Molly didn’t answer. She remained silent as she sat on the bed watching as Donna pulled the sequin and diamond accented black dress up over her body and pressed the shoulder snaps in place. In the bright sunlight coming in the bedroom windows, it was even more obvious that there was nothing but Donna beneath that dress.
“Are you happy?” Donna repeated, standing at the door of the bedroom.
Molly took in a deep breath and held it for a long, long time. Finally she let it out, slumped her shoulders and said, “No. Not really. Are you... are you happy? ... really happy?”
“I will tell you a secret that your implant will never let you tell others,” Donna said quietly, “because no one else has ever done it and the Network doesn’t want people to know it is possible. Your implant will probably erase it from your mind as soon as I leave.”
She walked back over to the bed and put one knee on the mattress so she could lean in very close to Molly’s ear as she whispered, “I never went back for the second implant. I guide my own life. This is what I have always wanted to be. I am doing what I always wanted to do. I am not controlled by the Network. So, yes, I am happy. I am very, very happy.”
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END OF STORY
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NOTE: The bot which checks stories automatically replaces the word s-c-r-i-p-t and the word s-e-l-e-c-t with ******. To make the story more readable, I use a CAPITAL I (i) in place of the l in seIect, and use a q in place of the p in scriqt. Those are NOT errors, so don't send me private messages about them. They are intentional work-arounds to defeat the stupid bots that check the stories.